Intercepting Daisy (12 page)

He'd loved the idea of Daisy watching him play from the team's suite.

And he was back to thinking about her again. What was it about her? She was slender, pretty, but that wasn't all that caught and held his interest. He'd always been partial to blondes, and her eyes were an interesting shade of blue/green/gray he'd never seen before. He'd dated a lot of women who could fit her description, but he'd never encountered anyone like Daisy. Someone who made him laugh, who he enjoyed spending time with. She had a life of her own, and he'd met too many women before who didn't. Maybe it was the fact she didn't need him.

If he was truthful, the fact she didn't spend every minute hanging on him made her more desirable. As far as he could tell, she was happy before she met him, and she'd be just as happy without him. He had to admit he'd like spending more time with her to see how things developed, though. He'd also like to have sex with her again. Next time, though, he'd get up and get her some water afterward, and then he'd start all over again at her toes. And work his way up.

He couldn't figure out why she'd all but thrown him out of her house. He'd always thought he wanted a woman who had sex with him and kicked him out the second he got up to pull on his pants. He realized with a shock that maybe he didn't, maybe he'd been wrong, and he should have tried harder to stay with her last night. She'd agreed to see him again on Thursday, but it wasn't enough.

He had to figure out how to entice her sufficiently enough that she'd want him to stick around for more. He was into her, but he wasn't sure if she was into him. It wasn't a good feeling, and he didn't know how to fix it.

“FML,” he muttered. He'd gotten what he wanted, but it wasn't what he wanted after all.

D
AISY SAT UP
in bed and glared at the clock. Seven fifteen. Despite the fact that she'd told Grant she had to get to work today, she actually didn't. She could have spent the night and this morning with him too. She'd needed an excuse in case things didn't go well, which was ridiculous. Things with Grant had gone really well. So well, in fact, she couldn't sleep from worrying that rushing him out the door last night meant he'd be texting her today to say their date was off. When she wasn't worrying about hurrying him out the door, she was dealing with the guilt that she hadn't come clean about
Overtime Parking
. She should have told him. He most likely would have dumped her on the spot, but at least she would have been honest with him.

Guys like Grant could have almost any woman they wanted. He was handsome, interesting, fun to be around, and the fact he had money didn't hurt, either. They'd spent the night before enjoying each other. She wasn't dumb enough to imagine she was the only woman in his life. She wasn't sure how she felt about sharing him with anyone else. Mostly, she didn't want to be the hook-up he really wasn't into but didn't mind having sex with once in a while. She wanted to be his one and only, if she was brutally honest. The only way she was going to make an impression was to make him believe she could live without him. Guys as competitive as Grant would see her as a challenge.

She'd fantasized about him so many nights before, but the reality was better than anything she'd come up with on her own. They weren't dangling off the Space Needle or naked on the fifty-yard line of Sharks Stadium, but she'd had him all to herself. She'd enjoyed her crazy fantasies. Maybe he'd help her act out a few of them later. That is, if he liked the thrill of almost getting caught.

The readers of her kooky little book would have been asleep if she'd written the story of two people alone in her cozy bed while rain fell on the roof, but the memories were sweet. And she hoped she'd get the opportunity again. Very soon.

She heard footsteps in the hallway outside of her bedroom, and a rumpled Catherine poked her head around the doorjamb.

“Morning, love,” her roommate said. “Did you have fun last night?”

“I did,” Daisy said.

“You don't look like it.” Catherine bustled into the room and sat down in the chair in the corner of Daisy's room, wrapping the bathrobe she wore more securely around her. “What happened? You don't have to tell me the good parts if you don't want to.”

“Where's Declan?”

“He dropped me off on his way to the office half an hour ago. We had a nice evening,” she said. “The usual. You know: A bottle of wine in front of the fire, some snuggling, and I committed acts on him that would make my mother blush.” She gave Daisy an unrepentant grin. “He's tired this morning, but happy. I blame myself for that.”

Catherine crossed her legs and wrapped her arms around herself, and Daisy saw something sparkly out of the corner of her eye.

Catherine was wearing a large diamond solitaire on the third finger of her left hand.

“Is there something you'd like to tell me?” Daisy demanded.

Catherine thrust her hand out. “Look what I got.”

Daisy and Catherine spent the next few minutes jumping up and down, hugging each other, and crying.

“He put it under my pillow. I couldn't figure out why there was something a little hard in the middle of my pillow, so I stuck my hand under there, and—” Catherine paused for a moment and put one hand over her mouth. “He was already asleep. I had to use the light from his phone to see what was in the box, you know? I was so surprised. So surprised. And I woke him up,” she said. “He put the ring on my finger, and we kissed. I have never been so happy.”

Daisy ignored the bittersweet pang she felt. It wasn't the time to be sad because Catherine would move out soon and she wouldn't be seeing her as often. It also wasn't the time to wish that she was the one showing off a beautiful engagement ring and bubbling over with happiness about spending the rest of her life with the man she loved.

Right now, she wanted her friend to know how happy she was for her. She wanted to rejoice and exult. She didn't want to spoil Catherine's big moment with “What about me?” Catherine deserved all the happiness life could bring.

If she wanted the same thing, she had to find a man who loved her. Maybe that man was Grant. She wouldn't know until she took the risk of letting him know who she was, in more ways than one.

She reached out for Catherine's left hand again. “Damn, that ring's big.”

“He brought it home from New York. They have an entire section of the city that's just jewelers. I love it,” she sighed. “And I love him.”

“Did you call your parents?”

“They are so excited,” Catherine said. “My mum wants to help me plan the wedding, but we're getting married here. Maybe she could come over for a couple of weeks while I do stuff like find a dress and figure out the rest of the details. Plus, I need to get started. We're talking about getting married in June.”

“June? That's not enough time. You have to find a place, and a dress takes several months to get—”

“Declan's parents want us to get married in their garden. They have acres on Mercer Island. His mum said she can rent a reception tent, and she was calling a caterer first thing this morning to see if they have bookings. I can deal with that later. We have things to do right now,” Catherine said. She got up from her chair, reached out for Daisy's hand, and said, “I can't get married without you. Will you be my maid of honor?”

G
RANT ARRIVED BACK
in his condo an hour after a run, covered in sweat and really hungry. He needed a big breakfast, but first on his to-do list was attempting to resolve whatever had gone wrong last night.

He grabbed his phone and texted Daisy. He wasn't so great at the mushy, romantic notes. Short and to the point wasn't bad, right?

Thanks for last night. Can't wait until Thursday.

He threw some fruit, protein powder, and ice cubes into the blender for a smoothie that might hold him until he managed to find (or make) something more substantial. The text notification didn't go off while he was drinking the shake. It didn't go off while he threw a load into the washing machine and started it up. His phone remained silent while he stripped off everything else he wore and got into the shower.

Maybe she was at work already. Or maybe she wasn't interested in texting him. She wasn't ignoring him, was she?

“Get over yourself,” he muttered. “Maybe she's busy.”

By the time he emerged from the shower, dripping all over the tile floor of his bathroom, he had a plan. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing at all.

He toweled off, pulled on underwear and clean warm-ups, and grabbed his phone again.

Every guy who'd played for the Seattle Sharks in the past four years had the number stored in his phone. A couple of his teammates had her on speed dial. She'd pulled their asses out of the fire many times. Now it was his turn.

He hit Dial and heard her cheery voice almost immediately.

“Crazy Daisy, Amy speaking.”

“Hi, Amy. It's Grant Parker from the Sharks. I think I need your help.”

He heard the sweet peal of her laughter. “I wondered when you'd finally call. What can I do for you?”

“I had a date. We had fun, but I would like to send her something. What do you suggest?” He took a deep breath. “I didn't ask her what kind of flowers she likes or anything.” He hadn't asked her a lot of things. Then again, it was tough to muster up a conversation when a woman had her hand wrapped around his dick. “You met her yesterday, if that helps at all.”

“It does. I really enjoyed talking with Daisy. She's great.” Grant could hear the camera on Amy's phone click. “I have something here she might like. Let me send you a pic. It's roses, tulips, and those teeny daisies—Shasta daisies—in a square vase decorated with coordinating polka-dot ribbon. I know it's a risk sending any kind of daisies to a woman named Daisy, but I think she'll love it. It's cute and fun and a bit different from typical arrangements. I'll make one today and get it into the van for this afternoon's deliveries, if that works.”

“I think she has a flight today. She won't be home until late, and I don't want it to sit outside.”

“Will tomorrow morning work better for you?”

“I think so,” he said. He sent his mom flowers a few times a year. Cam's wife had loved the baby stuff he'd sent them. He was a bit concerned, though; how many other guys had sent Daisy flowers? He didn't want to be one of a crowd. He wanted something she'd be charmed by. He had no idea what that might be, however. Not yet. He cleared his throat. “I have a question.”

“Shoot,” she said. He heard a voice in the background, which sounded suspiciously like the owner of the Sharks. He also heard what sounded like Amy's attempt to put her hand on her cell phone's speaker. “Matt Stephens, you are still the sexiest man alive, but I'm on a business call right now.”

“Maybe you should call them back,” Matt said.

“Maybe you should keep your hands to yourself,” Amy said, but Grant could hear the laughter in her voice. He heard a sharp intake of breath too. “I will get you for that.”

“I'll clear my schedule,” Matt said. He heard what sounded like Matt swatting his wife on the butt. “Hurry home, sexy.”

“May I put you on hold for a moment?” Amy said into the receiver. She probably hadn't pushed Hold hard enough. Grant heard her speaking seconds later.

“You'd better be naked when I get there,” Amy called out to her husband.

“I'll call Grandma Pauline and ask her if she'd like to take the kids for tonight,” Matt said. “You can't imagine the things I'm going to do to you later, Mrs. Stephens.”

“Maybe I'll ask Estelle to handle things here today.”

“Maybe you should.”

“I love you,” she called out.

“I love you too. I'm going to show you how much when you get home.”

The bells on Amy's shop's front doors jingled as Matt left, and he heard a gasp from Amy a few seconds later. “Grant? Did I drop you?”

“I'm here.”

“Oh my God. I hit Hold. I must not have done it right. Did you hear all that?” She was silent for a moment. “I'm so embarrassed.”

“Don't be,” he said. He wasn't sure what to say to make her feel better, but he blurted out, “I hope I'll find the same thing one day.”

“What's that?”

“Love for a lifetime. Someone special.”

“Looking for someone special is tough. I had to kiss a lot of frogs before I met my husband,” Amy said. “Matt showed up late to my sister's wedding. We drank tequila, and he poured me into my bed at the hotel. I felt so embarrassed—kind of like a few minutes ago. I didn't call him, even though he asked me to. He tracked me down and kept asking me out until I said I'd go. The rest is history.” She let out a laugh. “No matter what I did or who else I met, I couldn't forget about him. And he makes me feel like we just met and he can't wait to get his hands on me every day.” Grant heard her sigh. “I am the luckiest woman in the world. And I know you want to make Daisy feel the same way.”

“I . . . well, I'm kind of interested.” Kind of interested? That's why he'd tossed and turned all night wondering why she hadn't let him stay over.

Amy kept talking. “So, here's the deal. We'll start small. I'll get your flowers ready to go; they'll go out tomorrow morning, and they'll be gorgeous. I will find out what else she might like—balloons, more flowers, maybe some candy or something else fun. There is nothing that makes a woman want to see you again more than knowing you thought about her when she wasn't around.”

“I heard you're really good at this kind of stuff.”

“I'm damn good at it. Ask your teammates,” Amy joked. “Let's get your info, and I'll get to work.”

Seconds later, Grant heard the chime of an incoming text on his phone.

Last night was amazing. Is it Thursday yet?

D
AISY AND
C
ATHERINE
spent most of the next day making a list of wedding to-dos that resembled the checkoff lists involved in a NASA launch. The stack of bridal magazines Catherine had just bought would require hours of study.

Daisy looked longingly at her rolled-up yoga mat in the corner of the kitchen. She'd missed class again. Maybe she could do a few poses in the living room. She was already doing some yoga breathing as she contemplated the fact that Catherine was moving out in a few short months. Money wasn't the issue. She could afford the house payment on her own. She and Catherine had become close friends, and Daisy had already been through what happened when a friend got married. Her friends spent time with their spouses. As a result, Daisy wouldn't see them or spend time with them as often. That was how it should be, and she would have to make new single friends. The fact that so many of her friends had gotten married in the past five years should have been a clue that she needed to make a change.

Catherine flipped open one of the magazines, made a face, and held up the photo of a dress. “Horrible,” she said. “It looks like someone bought a glue gun, took the scissors to their down pillows, and glued them all over the skirt.”

“How much does that cost?”

“They never print the prices,” Catherine said. “If you have to ask, you can't afford it.” She flipped a few more pages. “Now this is more like it.” She held up the magazine so Daisy could see.

The dress was ivory and made of heavy satin. It was strapless and had a sweetheart neckline and a small train. The waist was accented by a front-facing bow made out of the same fabric. It would look beautiful on the tall, slender Catherine.